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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24620362">The Haunting of a former apprentice</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Someoneouthere/pseuds/Someoneouthere'>Someoneouthere</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Titans (Animated Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson-centric, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Evil Slade Wilson, Father-Son Relationship, Flashbacks, Gen, Heavy Angst, Parent Slade Wilson, Post-Episode: s03 e031 Haunted, Romani Dick Grayson, Slade Wilson's A+ Parenting, Team as Family</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:22:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24620362</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Someoneouthere/pseuds/Someoneouthere</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>(a reposted and updated version of "Affections of a unwanted father figure")<br/>Its been a whole month since he has come to terms with Slade's death. Sitting in his office, Robin thinks back to his apprenticeship days.</p><p> </p><p>Terrified that, even in death, some part of him still craves Slade's approval.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dick Grayson &amp; Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson &amp; Slade Wilson, Dick Grayson &amp; Teen Titans, Dick Grayson/Koriand'r</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I did not like how "Affections of a unwanted father figure" was written. it felt like i was throwing stuff at a wall to see what stuck. so i apologize.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was almost midnight. He should just go to sleep. </p><p>Pushing his seat away from the desk, Robin reached for his laptop, about to close it. Usually he could stay up for a few more hours, writing some lengthily report. But tonight his mind felt foggy and drained, the mere act of thinking becoming an unwanted chore.</p><p>Starring at his reflection on the screen, Robin frowned. Finally, he closed the laptop with a small thud. </p><p>It's been a month since the dust happened. A whole month since he almost- his heart skipped- ended himself. Robin rubbed his temples, as if that would somehow get rid of his growing migraine.</p><p>Just what was it about Slade that he could not get away from?</p><p>He can't terrorize the city anymore. He can't threaten his friends anymore. The man is dead.</p><p>He shouldn't be able to hurt him. </p><p>Taking a deep breath, Robin stood up from his chair, walking towards a make-shift cot in the corner. He crouched, reaching for something under it. Having pushed several containers out of the way, he dragged a large box out from underneath. He bit his lip. He really should have just thrown the thing away.</p><p>In it was his old news paper clippings. </p><p>Picking up a black n white photo, Robin slid the box back under the cot. Despite being old and blurry, the photo was surprisingly the best shot of Slade they had. In it, he was running on a rooftop, flashes of bright light behind him.</p><p>"Guess you weren't as infallible as you thought you were".</p><p>Lying down on the cot, Robin held up the photo. He squinted his eyes, searching for something he couldn't quite place his finger on.</p><p>The man was well beyond capable of killing and robbing anyone he wanted to. He didn't need the Sladebots. He didn't need anyone.</p><p>So why have an apprentice?</p><p>For all his intricate planning and cunning, it just didn't make sense. The amount of time, resources, and energy wasted just to have Robin at his side wasn't worth it. Not when you had a perfectly good robot army at your disposal. There was just nothing Slade could have gained from an apprentice.</p><p>
  <em>"Who knows. I might even become like a father to you".</em>
</p><p>Robin winced, pressing a hand to his eye. He thought he could wait it out, but the flashing pain in his head said differently. Quickly he sat up, leaving the photo on the cot.</p><p>Pulling out a desk drawer, Robin grabbed bottle of pain pills. After twisting the cap off, Robin poured the pill onto his palm and pressed it to his mouth. He sighed, twisting the cap back on. There was no reason for him to be thinking about Slade. </p><p>The man is dead.</p><p>He tossed the pain pills back inside, not even bothering to push the drawer into the desk. Robin turned to the cot, staring at the photo. Tentatively, he held the piece of paper up. He doesn't think he'll ever understand Slade, even if he knew all of his secrets.</p><p>Wearily Robin closed his eyes.</p><p>
  <em>"Excellent work, Robin. Your doing tremendously better than I thought you would. But please do try to be more careful".</em>
</p><p>He doesn't understand why the compliment stuck with him. Only knowing that genuine praise from Slade was few and far between.</p><p>Even now, it scared Robin how easily he found himself missing him.</p><p>The paper beneath his hands quickly began to crumble. </p><p> </p><hr/><p>One year ago...</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Its been 3 days since his apprenticeship began. And Robin already hates it.</p><p>"You're not even trying. Again". </p><p>Robin breathed heavily, his hands shaking. They've been training for hours now, and Slade knows he's beyond exhausted. <em>Sadistic freak</em>.</p><p>"I don't recall you having hearing damage. Do you want me to repeat it slower this time? <strong>Again</strong>".</p><p>He could rush at him. He could rush at him, grab the remote, and Slade wouldn't even have the time to counter it. </p><p>Robin smiled to himself. </p><p>Not even bothering to go into a fighting stance, Robin ran towards Slade. He was going to be free of this nightmare; free before Slade forced him to do anything horrible. Robin's heart sped up with excitement. <em>Chew on that, you bastard-</em></p><p>A large hand wrapped itself around Robin's wrist. Twisting his arm painfully, Slade threw him to the ground. His shoulder blade slamming hard against metal, Robin gulped for air. How did he-? Behind him, the resonance of Slade's stride grew louder and louder. Robin groaned, a steel boot blocking his vision. "That was reckless and poorly planned, Robin. Which is why you need my guidance". </p><p>Slade walked away, hands behind his back.</p><p>"Again".</p><p>Robin growled, his fist slamming against the floor.</p><p>"Fuck you"!</p><p>The man stopped. Casting a meaningful glance at Robin, "What did you say"? </p><p>It was such a simple phrase. But something in the way he had said it almost made him convinced Slade was about to kill him. Placing the trigger within view, his one eye narrowed. "Come on, I wanna hear what you have to say".</p><p>Robin stood up, any biting retort dying in his throat. "Don't hurt them". </p><p>Slade turned towards him, stalking forward. "That's not what you said before. Try again". His thumb lightly brushed the button.</p><p>Leaning into his face, the mask breathed, "<strong>Say it</strong>".</p><p>"Fuck y-"</p><p>Wham.</p><p> </p><p>Robin's face stayed transfixed toward the side, the red mark on his cheek fading. It was definitely going to become a bruise. Slowly, he glanced toward Slade. The man only stood there, his outstretched arm the only sign of him backhanding him just now.</p><p>"Training is over. Go to your room".</p><p>It was a quiet walk. </p><p>The seamless door opened, Robin's tired body slumping through. How long did he have to stay here?</p><p>He eyed the bed in the corner. How long did he have to sleep on this bed?</p><p>Taking a seat on the mattress, Robin grasped the sheets. How long will it be until he was home?</p><p>His shoulders shook, tears threatening to spill over. Robin sharply inhaled. </p><p>Crying silently, he curled into himself. Will he ever leave?</p><p>The door opened. His breathe hitched. </p><p>Quickly wiping away his tears, Robin whipped towards Slade. A single eye only stared back impassively. Slade stood in front of him, handing him a ice packet and a towel. Robin hesitated. "For the bruise. I must admit what I did was... unnecessary. If that's any consolation to you".</p><p>Holding the items in his hands, Robin Frowned.</p><p>Slade turned to the doorway and sighed. "I don't expect you'll get used to staying here anytime soon. But, please, do try".</p><p>The door slid closed.</p><p>Placing the ice pack next to him, Robin sat there starring at nothing.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"I wanna go home".</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Ward</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Guard; protect.<br/>"His duty was to ward the Prince".</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fair warning: please know that this is written with an unreliable narrator. One who is traumatized and is in the process of figuring that out.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Robin opened the door to his office, rubbing his eyes. He should be with the others, celebrating. Johnny Rancid wasn't easy to catch after all. But ever since last night...</p><p>He just couldn't stop thinking about the apprenticeship. </p><p>Trudging foward, Robin groaned, frustrated with himself. He knew better than to ruminate on the past. Or at least he <em>thought</em> he knew better.</p><p>Remembering that place, that incessant clunk of gears, that <strong>man</strong>... only made him confused and angry.</p><p>Confused and angry with <em>himself</em>.</p><p>He hated the things he did for Slade. Hated the things he <em>didn't</em> do. Hated how he got into that situation <strong><em>in the first place</em></strong>.</p><p>Most of all he hated that feeling-</p><p>That feeling he would get when Bruce would smile at him at the end of particularly good patrol. That feeling when his dad would praise him for lasting so long on the tightrope.</p><p>That feeling when Slade would pat his shoulder.</p><p>His fist began to tremble. That man had deliberately hurt him in the worst ways possible. Nearly broken him by mere presence alone. </p><p>And yet-</p><p>Something must be wrong with him. No one should feel that way after what has happened. No one.</p>
<hr/><p>One year ago...</p><p> </p><p>Its been a week since the apprenticeship began. And Robin's already beginning to doubt his chances of escape.</p><p>"Your technique is improving, I'll give you that".</p><p>Robin winced. Every once and awhile, he swears he hears Bruce talking instead of Slade. He thinks it must be the level tone that somehow reeks disappointment. Or the way his shoulders hunch if you did something even slightly wrong. </p><p>Robin doesn't know how he should feel about it. So he tries not to.</p><p>"Execution on the other hand..."</p><p>Metallic boots click uncomfortably close. The video in front of Robin switches to a clip of him getting sucker punched. "Tell me, apprentice. What went wrong"?</p><p>'<em>Apprentice'</em>. </p><p>By definition, it meant student, yet Slade might as well have changed the meaning to be captive.</p><p>At least he didn't call him <em>ward</em>.</p><p>"Well"?</p><p>Robin grinded his teeth. "I took the feint. I was distracted".</p><p>Oh how he <em>hated</em> this routine. </p><p>Robin makes a mistake. </p><p>It didn't matter how small, how truly insignificant it was, <strong>He</strong> would notice.</p><p>He would then proceed to make Robin repeat to him what he did wrong.</p><p>Force him to explain why it was a mistake.</p><p>And never let it go.</p><p>Repeat.</p><p>"And why was that"?</p><p>Robin took a deep breath. Getting upset is only what Slade wants.</p><p>"I wasn't thinking".</p><p>Agitated, he flexed his hand.</p><p>"I asked for an explanation Robin, not an excuse-"</p><p>"Yeah, I get the point, Bruce".</p><p> </p><p>Even the gears behind him seemed to falter.</p><p>His eyes widened. Why did he call him that? He may have left on bitter terms with the man, but Bruce, he was- he wasn't kind. But he was fair.</p><p>That was more than what Slade could offer in a heart-</p><p>"Bruce"?</p><p>Despite wanting more than anything to be a human wall, he stiffened. </p><p>"Thats the bats name, isnt it? Bruce". Slade circled in front of him. Eye toward the ceiling, as if he didn't already know what he wanted to say.</p><p>"You see me as some replacement for Bruce, don't you".</p><p>Robin lunged at Slade, his hand inches away from the trigger. </p><p>Somehow he still wasn't close enough. </p><p>Slade grasped Robin's arm, nearly pulling it out of its socket. Robin stumbled. He turned toward Slade, rubbing his shoulder.</p><p>Leering over him, the mask tilted. "It's frustrating, isn't it? You left an entire city just to escape a teacher, only to run towards a new one".</p><p>He chuckled.</p><p>"You're more luckly than you could ever know".</p><p>Robin scowled. "You're holding me against my will, Batman let me leave. You are nothing like him".</p><p>"Ever heard of a freudian slip? Besides as I recall it, you ran away from Gotham. Bruce didn't let you do anything. You made the choice for him".</p><p>"What makes you think I won't leave you"?</p><p>Slade stepped toward him. His hand hovering over the trigger. </p><p>"You won't".</p><p>Robin lowered his head, refusing to meet Slade's one eye. A hand patted his shoulder.</p><p>"Good boy".</p><p>For a moment, he was breathless. He didn't understand why it felt good, only knowing that it did.</p><p>And a for a moment, Slade's hand lingered a little longer than it should.</p>
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